


benji and paul go to del taco: a gratuitous pwp

by thunderylee



Category: Good Charlotte
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, POV First Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-22
Updated: 2006-01-22
Packaged: 2019-02-08 01:08:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12853455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: See title.





	benji and paul go to del taco: a gratuitous pwp

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

“Welcome to Del Taco, may I take your order?”

Paul rolls his eyes at the bored-sounding woman at the speaker and leans out the car window.

“I’ll take a beef chimichanga,” he says more loudly than necessary before turning to me with a smirk. “Want anything?”

“Fuck you,” I say, wrinkling my nose. “How can you eat that shit? Do you know what’s _in_ that?”

“Sure do,” Paul says audaciously, rubbing his belly for effect. “Mmm, cow.”

I shake my head and stare out the window. We’ve only been recording our album for like two weeks, and already I feel like I’ve seen this drive-thru more often than the studio.

Some rap song comes on the radio and Paul turns up the volume. He is _so_ ghetto. As we drive towards the pick-up window, he’s dancing in his seat to the beat of the music and rapping along with the lyrics. I can’t help but laugh at him, even if he is about to eat something that was once a living creature.

He pays for the dead animal and pulls into the CompUSA parking lot next door.

“What the hell do you need from CompUSA?” I ask incredulously.

He gives me a funny look as he unwraps his lunch. “Nothing, dude. I’m fucking starving.”

“You’re going to eat that in _front_ of me?”

“It’s not like I’m fucking your sister. Watch those two chicks over there make out if it bothers you so much.”

My head snaps to the side, and sure enough there are two people making out a few cars over. Except that they’re not chicks.

“Paul, those are guys.” I hope he chokes on his cow flesh.

“I know.” He laughs. “You should have seen your face.”

I turn to glare at him, only to be greeted with the sight of him trying to stuff this incredibly large cylindrical object into his mouth. It would be quite comical except for the fact that I have no desire to laugh. I’m more impressed that he can actually fit his mouth around the whole thing. It kind of looks like he’s trying to give it head.

He bites down and a glob of sauce falls onto his shirt. He doesn’t even notice as he inhales the rest of the chopped-up carcass and lets out a pretty decent belch.

“Motherfucker,” he says, finally seeing the stain. “Benj, do you have a spare shirt in here?”

“Not that would fit your fat ass,” I quip, deciding not to tell him that he has sauce all over his mouth.

“Shut up fool.” He turns around to rummage through the backseat, bumping my shoulder in the process. “Aha!” He emerges with an old black T-shirt that I keep on hand for… well, when I spill shit on my shirt.

He pouts at me and I sigh. “Fine.”

I avert my eyes as he takes off his shirt, feeling uncomfortable despite the fact that I’ve seen Paul shirtless hundreds of times. Besides, this is _my_ car; one should never feel uncomfortable around his shirtless best friend in his own car.

“Damn, they’re really going at it.”

“Huh?” I look up and see – oh, damn. The one guy has the other dude pinned to the hood of the car, and they’re making out like crazy. In the middle of the day in a fucking CompUSA parking lot.

I shake my head and look back at Paul, who has frozen halfway through the process of unraveling my shirt. His chest is completely exposed, and there are small beads of sweat glistening on the thick patch of hair running down the middle towards places I don’t want to think about. There’s an interesting look on his face, one which I’m not so sure I want to decipher. And he still has sauce on his mouth.

“Hey, Benj?” he asks in this quiet voice that scares the shit out of me.

“Yeah?”

“What’s it like to kiss another guy?”

My eyes dart up to his and he’s abandoned the free gay porn show in favor of staring oddly at me. Please tell me this isn’t going where I think it’s going.

“Um… it’s like kissing a chick, kind of,” I say, searching for the right words that I hope will end this awkward conversation. “Except that guys have rougher lips. And stubble.”

“Hmm,” he says with a thoughtful nod. “That’s cool.”

Oh, thank _God_. Paul turns his attention to my shirt and puts his arms through the sleeves, and I seriously think the topic has been dropped until he pauses and raises an eyebrow at me.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” I ask a little too defensively. “I’m not looking at you in any particular way.”

His eyebrow rises even higher, and he looks like he’s trying to keep from laughing. “Benji, you are such a girl.”

“Am not!” I respond indignantly, my traitorous voice jumping about two octaves.

“Sure you are,” he says with a smirk, leaning across the console to put his _hand_ on my _crotch_. “You’re just a girl with a hard on.”

My jaw drops, but I can’t say anything because he has a point. I _do_ have a hard on. One which he is currently _touching_.

My cock twitches at the contact and Paul chuckles. “You obviously want me, Benj. And here I am with my hand on your dick in the CompUSA parking lot. Put two and two together, yeah?”

I gape at him, trying to think of something – _anything_ – to say to contradict this situation. However, all that comes out of my mouth is, “You have sauce on your face.”

He leans closer, and I simply do not have the power to move. His lips brush against mine lightly before jumping back, as if it just occurred to him that he’s kissing a guy.

“Benji?” he asks cautiously, snatching his hand away like it caught fire. “You look terrified. Am I wrong about this?”

My head shakes vigorously of its own accord, and before I know it I’m lifting my arm to guide him back towards me. Our lips touch again, and I close my eyes and allow myself to enjoy the kiss. _Paul’s_ kiss.

His hand rests on my thigh, and I spread my legs slightly to encourage him to touch me. He chuckles softly against my mouth as he trails his fingers along my inseam, teasing me within an inch of my sanity. I lean down to capture his bottom lip in my teeth, using my tongue to clean up the sauce from his face. He growls and grabs my cock again, squeezing it tightly and beginning to stroke me through my pants.

I let go of his lip and angle my head to deepen the kiss, his tongue meeting mine just as enthusiastically. He tastes of spices and cow meat, and I don’t care. I find my energy and reach out to wrap my arms around him, running my hands up his bare back. He quickens his pace on me and I tear my mouth away, gasping for air.

“Paul, you have to stop,” I say very unconvincingly. “I don’t want to mess up these pants.”

He grins and kisses me briefly as he tries to unfasten my pants one-handed. His lips move down my jaw line to my throat, and he pushes up my shirt to kiss down the center of my chest. Oh, my God, is he going to…

“I haven’t done this before,” he says, looking up at me as he urges me to lift my hips so he can push down my pants. “I might not be good at it.”

“You don’t have to,” I say, my voice barely a whisper, sliding my hand up the back of his neck to twist in his hair.

“I want to.” He eyes my cock like it’s another chimichanga.

Before I can protest, his lips are around the head of my cock, his tongue pressing into the slit. My fingers tighten in his hair as he takes in more of my length, slowly as if he’s seeing how much he can handle. I nearly jump out of my seat when the tip of my cock hits the back of his mouth, and I silently thank the heavens above that Paul doesn’t have a gag reflex. I don’t think anybody else has been able to deep-throat me; this is new.

He makes some sort of noise and I have to bite my lip to keep from screaming at the sensations I feel around my cock. I look down to see him staring straight at me, and I can’t help but let a moan escape as the familiar heat begins to gather in my belly.

“Paul,” I gasp. “I’m… I’m going to come.”

He eases up a bit and begins sucking me fiercely, swirling the underside of my cock with his tongue. I lean my head back and groan softly as I explode into Paul’s mouth, cracking up when I open my eyes in time to see him spit out the window.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly.

“It’s okay,” I say, pulling him into a kiss. I taste myself on his tongue and smile against his lips. “That was the best fucking blowjob I’ve ever had in my _life_.”

He laughs. “Good to know I’m good at something.”

I sigh contently, basking in the afterglow of my orgasm. I look at him through hooded lids, and it occurs to me that I haven’t even touched him yet.

“Want me to repay the favor?” I ask.

“You don’t have to,” he says, but his eyes betray him.

“I know.” I glance towards the backseat, his eyes following mine.

In one swift motion, I jump over the console and into the backseat. Paul actually gets out of the car and comes in through the back door, whistling nonchalantly. Once the door is closed and we are hidden from view by the deep tint of the windows, he crawls on top of me and fuses his mouth to mine.

Paul’s weight is crushing, but I don’t care. I feel his erection pressing into my thigh, and I reach down to rub him through his pants.

“ _Oh_ ,” he moans into my mouth, bucking his hips against my hand. “Christ, Benji, I want you so bad.”

“You want to fuck me?” I say, tightening my grip on his cock.

“God, yes.” Paul sucks one of my lip rings into his mouth. “I think about you all the time, Benji. I’ve wanted you for years, but I never knew how to tell you.”

“Show me,” I say hoarsely. “There’s lube in the console.”

He looks at me as he reaches for the console. “Are you sure?”

I give him a pointed look and begin to lower my pants, kicking them off along with my shoes. He finds the tube and leans over me, unfastening his pants as I pull my legs up.

“I-I don’t know what to do,” he says, looking scared.

I snatch the tube from him and smirk as I pull out his cock and coat it thoroughly, kissing his neck while his arms start to shake from holding himself up.

“There,” I say, tossing the tube on the floor. “Now you put it in.”

“Don’t I have to like prepare you or something?” he asks in a strained voice.

“No, I like it to hurt a little bit.” I bite his neck for effect, and he lowers himself on top of me, curling his arms around my thighs.

“Remind me to harass you about having done this before,” he says, burying his head in my shoulder as he tries to blindly line his cock up with my hole.

“Yeah, I will,” I say sarcastically. “Right after we do it.”

The tip of his cock finds my entrance, and we both groan as he begins pushing his way in.

“Does it hurt?” he whispers.

“Yeah,” I say, cringing. “It’ll feel better once you’re all the way in. Keep going.”

Slowly, as if he’s trying to torture me, he breaks through the tight ring of muscles and sheaths himself inside of me. It only takes me a second to get used to him, and I try to push against him in an effort to get him to move. He doesn’t move.

“Move, Paul,” I say quietly.

“This feels… incredible,” he breathes. “You have no idea, Oh, my God.”

“It feels better if you _move_.” I lower my hands down the back of his pants and grab his ass forcefully, and he finally starts to move.

“Fuck yes,” I hiss through my teeth as he pulls almost all the way out of me and thrusts back in. “Angle yourself up a bit.”

“Like this?” He lifts my hips a bit and slams right against my prostate. I toss my head back and let out this strangled cry, tightening my grip on his ass and probably digging my nails into his flesh.

“Yeah,” I gasp. “Like that. Keep doing that.”

“Fuck.” He lifts his head to suck on my neck, and I never thought I’d be grateful that he’s so much taller than me. “You feel so fucking good, Benji. _God_.”

“Faster,” I order. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

He begins pounding into me, grunting into my skin as he clings onto my legs. “Shit, Benji, I’m not going to last much longer.”

“That’s okay.” I rummage around on the floorboards until I find some unused napkins that I threw back here the other day. “Here. I don’t want come in my ass all day.”

He takes the napkins and I feel him chuckle into my neck. “You’re so demanding.”

I bite him in response. “You spend an entire day with come in your ass and tell me if it’s comfortable.”

He speeds up as though to spite me, thrusting into me with such force that I can’t see properly. “Oh, yeah,” he mutters. “Fuck, Benj… _fuck_.”

“Gah,” I reply, incapable of comprehensible speech.

Suddenly he pulls out of me, and I watch as he fists his cock and comes into the wad of napkins, scrunching his face up and letting out a long string of obscenities in the process. He drops the napkin to the floor and collapses on top of me, covering my neck with wet kisses.

“So,” I say conversationally, as though we’re discussing the weather. “What’s it like to kiss another guy?”

He bursts out laughing against my skin, raising himself up slightly to look down at me. The laughter dies when he meets my eyes, and he smiles warmly.

“It’s like kissing a chick, kind of,” he replies, echoing my words. “Only better, ’cause it’s you.”


End file.
